


Dishwasher Repairman

by Maizeysugah



Series: The Mudblood Relocation Camp Tales [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Facials, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maizeysugah/pseuds/Maizeysugah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Voldemort has been using Amortentia in order to sleep with Harry Potter but the jig is up, he's grown immune to the stuff. But does it even matter anymore? Perhaps he, too, has grown to enjoy their evenings alone together in the sack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dishwasher Repairman

**Author's Note:**

> At the bottom of the tale I added a few GIFS that might not be all that safe for work.

Lord Voldemort stepped inside of the prison cell wearing overalls and holding a spanner in his hand. “Did someone call for a repair man? Dishwasher on the fritz?” 

“Nice try, Lord Voldemort.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest while simultaneously shaking his head in disappointment. “I’ve grown immune to your love potion, idiot, just so you know. I’m not falling for stupid role playing games anymore. I know I’m in your Mudblood Relocation Camp, I’m not daft.” He looked the man over and threw his arms up. “Honestly, you dressed up as a handyman to shag me? This is low, even for you. I don't even own a dishwasher.” 

The Polyjuice-Potion’d-to-look-like-Tom-Riddle wraith’s shoulders slumped. “Damn.” He did a little turn, modelling off the hard work he put into the costume. “It’s not working for you?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Harry said, tapping his fingers on his lips as he took the lovely sight in. “I just meant I know what you’re up to.” 

Voldemort dropped the spanner and stepped into the room. “That’s strange and interesting information to learn.” 

“You just gonna stand there thinking about stuff all day?” Harry sneered at him. “What are you waiting on? We fucking or not?” Before he’d even taken a breath after those words he was in Voldemort’s arms, bent back, being kissed with such passion he swooned. Voldemort's mouth was all over him, greedy and urgent. He threw his head back for air and peeled the fake moustache off the man’s top lip. “How long have I been here?” 

“Does it matter?” The handsome man pressed him back into the kiss, filling his mouth with his hot tongue when he tried to speak again. They tore each other’s clothing off, never breaking the kiss, and backed up to the end of the room and fell on the bed together as one. 

Harry found himself on his back with the Dark Lord on top of him. “Hey, why am I always on the bottom?” 

The man gaped at him. “Because I’m fucking Lord Voldemort, you numb-skull.” He splattered Harry with flavoured lubricant and took hold of his growing erection. “Honestly, you think I’m gonna let you fuck me?” 

Shivering with pleasure, Harry’s eyes drifted closed. “You never know, you might like it.” 

The Dark Lord gawked at the man. “I’m confused…Why are you not jerking me off right now?” 

“Oh, sorry,” Harry said, cringing, groping around for the man’s huge cock. “I got offtrack. I tend to ramble on and on during sex.” 

“Tell me about it,” Voldemort said, rolling his eyes. “Move onto your side so I can shove my fingers up your arse, Potter.” 

“What did I tell you?” he said, getting onto his side. “Do not call me by my surname during sex. That’s so unbelievably rude.” 

“Sorry,” the man said. His tongue swished across his teeth as he took in Harry’s lovely glistening arse, all oiled up, so pert and firm. He eased his middle finger inside, relishing in the soft, inviting warmth. 

Harry arched so prettily for him. He was licking the lube off his fingers, humming in his throat. “You are so bloody gentle, you’re like a sex artist.” 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me before.” He stopped, looking Harry in the eye. He kissed his lips chastely and smiled. “Tell me why you’re being so cooperative.” 

The young man shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? What else is there to do? I’ve gotten quite used to you now.” he said to him before kissing him back. “And you put so much work into these little sessions, it’d be a shame to miss out on the fantastic sex because I’m brooding.” He flicked his tongue against the man’s lips. “Kiss me, you fool.” 

“Ooh,” he moaned, cupping his hand behind Harry’s neck and pressing their lips together again. He slipped another finger inside of him, fucking him with them while their tongues rolled around in their mouths. Harry wrapped his legs and arms around his statuesque frame, rocking against him, lost in the frenetic bliss the man’s hands were delivering. 

Lord Voldemort took a brief glance of Potter’s pretty face, noting that his glasses had gone askew. He kissed him and sat up, hitching his legs in the crooks of his elbows. Harry sat up on his elbows, nibbling on his bottom lip and stroking his own cock while he gazed up at the gorgeous man now easing his prick inside of him. His head lolled back and his eyes closed. 

“Do you do this with anyone else here?” Harry asked him, still somewhat coherent. 

“No,” he replied. He was very turned on watching Harry play with himself, the man was utterly gorgeous. “Why, would you be jealous if I did?” 

“Jealous? Me?” Harry peeped up at him, feeling him quicken his pace. Their eyes locked. The Dark Lord was wagging his tongue at him. He giggled. “You like what you see, Voldemort?” 

“Oh, yes,” he said, grunting and huffing, feeling his testicles tighten. “Fuck yes I like what I see. You’re bloody beautiful, Harry.” 

Hearing his name and watching the man fucking him drove Harry breathless with pleasure. “I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna come.” 

“No, don’t come yet,” Voldemort hissed, clamping a hand on his own cock as he pulled out of him. “Let me finish for you, please, Harry.” 

Harry sat up quickly and dropped down in front of the man. “Gods, come on me,” he said, proffering his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck,” Voldemort cried. He was coming, hot and slick, freckling Harry’s face and tongue with it. He collapsed onto the bed, taking Harry down with him, kissing and licking his spunk off his face. He took hold of his cock once more, squeezing it, rutting over it, fucking him fast and hard. He kissed his neck, tasting damp sweat mingled with semen. He drew his tongue over a nipple, tickling it with the hard tip of it, feeling Harry trembling against it, hearing his breath grow louder and harder. 

He leaned up to Harry's face, pressing their cheeks together. “Are you going to come?” 

“Yes,” Harry breathed. 

The Dark Lord kissed him, muffling his cries as he climaxed. Harry jerked with spasms, clutching the man, digging his nail in his back. They both went limp in each other’s arms, panting heavily. Harry kissed the tip of his nose. “So, when are you going to murder me?” he asked him, running his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“When you get old,” he replied, wiping some jism off of Harry cheek that he’d missed. 

“And what’s old to you?” 

The man chuckled. “You don’t actually have to worry about growing old, Potter.” 

Harry blinked. “Why is that?” 

“I made you immortal,” he told him, smirking. 

Harry paled, pulling his hands away to climb off the bed. “Why would you do that?” 

“Oh no you don’t,” Voldemort said, grabbing the man, holding him down. “Stay. Good boy.” 

His hands were pinned above his head. “So I’m going to be trapped in here forever?” 

Voldemort smiled down over him. “Yes, that’s the plan.” 

“And now I’m conscious of it. Can I at least have a book or something?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, that’s a lot to ask,” the man said,snorting. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.” 

Harry blinked at him. “Are you seriously not going to give me a book?” 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake you’ll get a bloody book. Are you hungry or not, you sonuvabitch?” 

“Yes, I’m hungry!” Harry shouted up at him. “Fucking starving!” 

“Good! You are so annoying,” the man grumbled while climbing off the bed. “Ungrateful little tosser. I make you immortal and this is the thanks I get.” He reached into the puddle of overalls he’d dropped on the floor when he’d gotten there and pulled his wand out to clean them up. 

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Your wand was there that whole time?” 

Voldemort pulled his knickers up and waved the wand over the a shoe, transforming it into a table and chairs. He snapped his fingers and two plates of food appeared on the tabletop. “Come, sit,” he said, beckoning Harry over. 

Harry snatched his knickers up and hopped over to the table while putting them on. He sat down, perturbed. “Why did you make me immortal?” 

Voldemort laughed. “I’m not giving this up,” he said, waving a hand over the length of Harry. 

“Oh.” 

“Eat.” 

“I’m not hungry anymore.” 

“Eat or I’ll go outside and murder a Mudblood.” 

“Fine.” 

They ate in silence. When they finished, Voldemort stood up and yanked Harry out of his chair, spun him around and pushed him back on the bed. He climbed over him, pinning him down. “Now, where were we?” 

Harry cringed. “Um, you don’t look like Tom Riddle anymore.” 

The man tipped his head. “Does that complicate things?” 

“Yes,” Harry said, maybe little too quickly. 

“Fine, sleep,” Voldemort replied, and watched Harry close his eyes and drift off into slumber. He took his glasses off and set them by his head. He slung the overalls over his shoulder and grabbed the spanner, leaving the room. 

When Harry awoke, the room was filled with books. He smiled, cupping his cheeks. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Here are some hot gifs. If you liked this and want more let me know or give me kudos, darlings!


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